Invisible
by Life's Shadows
Summary: After Matthew is forgotten on his birthday, he goes home and decides suicide is his best option. AU, human names used
1. Chapter 1

Matthew pushed the door open and let it bang against the wall before he turned and slammed it shut. The house shook with the force of it. He kicked off his shoes and ran towards his room, dropping his bag on the floor along the way. He screamed in anger as he ran through the house, and slammed his bedroom door closed when he finally reached it. Francis stepped out of the kitchen, looking after his younger son in concern. It was unlike Matthew to behave this way…

Francis set down his dishtowel and slipped the apron off over his head. He laid them both over a kitchen chair and headed for his son's room. He knocked quietly on the door.

"Mathieu? Vous sont bien?" he asked. He pressed his ear against the door.

"Partir, Papa. Laissez-moi la paix," Matthew replied in broken French. Francis put his hand on the doorknob, but it wouldn't turn.

"Mathieu, faites-moi entrer, mon fils," Francis said.

"Non!" The word ended on a sob, and Francis tried the door again in concern.

"Mathieu, s'il vous plait, open the door."

"Non, Papa!" Matthew was openly crying now. Francis left for a moment and returned with the key to the door. It slid into the knob and easily turned. He carefully opened the door onto a darkened room. The light from the hallway revealed Matthew sitting in the middle of the floor, his head bowed over his hands in his lap. He had his back to the door, so Francis couldn't see at first what he was doing.

"Mathieu…" Francis stepped forward and gasped as he saw over his shoulder. Matthew raised his tear-filled eyes to look at him. The thin metal blade was buried deep in his wrist, his stark red blood flowing over his pale white skin.

"Papa." Matthew raised his uninjured hand toward Francis. Francis turned and ran from the room. Matthew dropped his hand and let his chin fall against his chest, his shoulders shaking. A moment later, Francis's arms went securely around his waist. Francis dialed a quick number on the phone he had grabbed and held it to his own ear, waiting anxiously until someone on the other end answered.

"Hello?"

"Arthur! Allé à la maison rapide! Mathieu! Il est mort!"

"Hold on Francis, I don't understand you when you talk like that. Try using English," Arthur encouraged calmly.

"Papa, je ne suis pas mort," Matthew said softly.

"Who's not dead?" Arthur asked, more able to understand Matthew's calm voice than Francis's hysterical one.

"It is Mathieu!" Francis cried into the phone. "Arthur, il est—he is cutting himself! With a razor! There is blood everywhere!"

"Have you called a hospital?" Arthur asked.

"Non! I cannot, ils ne comprendront pas!" Francis cried.

"Alright, just calm down, I'll be there soon." Arthur hung up, and Francis dropped the phone. He put both arms around the boy's waist and rocked back and forth, sobbing into his shoulder as he held him tightly.

"It will be alright, Papa," Matthew said, patting his hands. Francis raised his head to look down at his son. Matthew gave him a weak smile. "Soon I'll die. Try not to miss me too much, okay? I know no one else will." Francis stared at him in horror.

"What about your friends?" he asked. Matthew's eyes welled up with tears again.

"I don't have friends, Papa. Do friends forget your birthday? It was today, and they all forgot. All of them forgot. Even Alfred." Matthew leaned into Francis's arm and cried. "They all forgot me! I was standing right there and they didn't even see me! Do friends do that, Papa? Do they?" Francis could not answer, and instead just hugged his son tightly. Soon he heard the door open down the hall.

"Francis?"

"Arthur, here!" Francis called. Quick footsteps echoed down the hall towards them. A shadow fell over them as Arthur stood in the doorway, then he came and knelt next to them, taking Matthew's hand in his own two.

Time seemed to blur for the boy as Arthur called an ambulance while trying to stop the blood flow, Francis holding tightly to him all the while. He blacked out for a while, and then he was being lifted onto a stretcher, the ceiling spinning above him. He felt his Papa's firm grip on his uninjured hand.

Matthew was taken outside to the ambulance, and he felt Francis's fingers slid away from his. He tried to sit up, scanning the faces over him frantically.

"Papa? Papa!" he cried out.

"Calm down, Matthew," a paramedic said, trying to calm him.

"PAPA!" Matthew screamed, thrashing against the straps holding him in place. Francis jumped up into the ambulance and grabbed his hand.

"C'est bien, Mathieu, je suis ici," Francis said, brushing Matthew's hair out of his eyes. He pressed a hand to his son's clammy forehead and met his violet eyes. Matthew gave him a weak smile.

"Merci, Papa," he said, just before the world went black.

Okay so this is my first published fanfiction, and I know it's a little dark, for some reason lots of my stories turn out that way. There is a happy ending in store though, you'd have to wait for the next chapter. When I finish it I will try to put it up as soon as possible, but I had to wait an hour for my faulty internet connection to even put this one up.

Translations(roughly):

Vous sont bien? = Are you okay?

Partir, Papa. Laissez-moi la paix = Go away, Papa. Leave me alone.

faites-moi entrer, mon fils = let me come in, my son

Allé à la maison rapide! Mathieu! Il est mort! = Come to the house quickly! Matthew! He is dead! (I did it on purpose, he's exaggerating because he's getting hysterical)

je ne suis pas mort = I am not dead

ils ne comprendront pas = they won't understand

C'est bien, Mathieu, je suis ici = It's okay, Matthew, I am here

Also, Happy Canada Day! We do love you, Mattie. Really.

Please review!


	2. Chapter 2

The next thing Matthew heard was the sound of distant crying, accompanied by a loud and annoying beeping noise. The fingers of his right hand twitched in irritation, and the beeping skipped a beat. The crying paused with a sudden gasp, and then someone was leaning over him, cool fingers brushing his forehead.

"Mm…" Matthew said. There was a sharp gasp close to him, and then the fingers and presence were gone, replaced by the sound of running feet. The sound disappeared for a second, and then increased threefold. Three hushed voices gathered around him, and he struggled to make sense of them.

"…Are you sure?"

"Oui. I definitely heard it. I'm sure he made a sound."

"Maybe it was your imagination, frog."

"_Non!_ I'm sure I heard it!"

"Shh!"

"Mmm…" Matthew moaned, protesting the sudden increase of volume in the voices. His fingers started tapping out a rhythm on the blanket under his hand. The fingers of his left hand were unresponsive.

"Look, his hand!" Something was slid under his fingers, and he paused. He stroked the surface and discovered it was a pad of paper. He went back to tapping, but this time it could be heard.

"Matthew, can you—"

"Shh! Just listen!" This was Alfred's voice. Matthew started tapping out a melody he hoped his brother would recognize. The song was by a band they both listened to. He could feel his brother's breath hot on the back of his hand as he leaned forward to hear it better. Alfred started humming along. "Oh, I know this song, but I can't remember the words."

"Just keep listening, mon cher, maybe they'll come to you." After a moment of humming, Alfred began to mumble some words. Matthew tapped with increased energy, and then Alfred was singing.

"_Hold on, if you feel like letting go. Hold on, it gets better than you know. Don't stop looking, you're one step closer. Don't stop searching, it's not over. Ho~ld on."_ Matthew reached up suddenly and grabbed Alfred's chin, which was the closest thing to his hand. Alfred jerked back, out of his grip. A large hand clasped Matthew's.

"Mathieu? Are you awake? Please say something, mon cher." Matthew opened his mouth and immediately started coughing. He tore his hand away and grabbed onto his throat, his body curling into itself as he tried to stop the violent coughing.

"Mattie? What's wrong?" Alfred asked.

"Get him some water!" Matthew was pulled up into a sitting position and a glass was pressed against his lips. He grabbed onto the glass and drank the water quickly, not caring when some spilled onto his shirt. There were hands on his back and shoulders, supporting him, and one on his hand holding the glass. When it was empty, he let it go with a gasp and laid back on the pillows. He opened his eyes slowly, unaccustomed to the light.

"Where are we?" he asked.

"In the hospital, mon cher." He squinted and looked around.

"The hospital?" he asked.

"Oui. After you…"

"We were very worried about you. You lost a lot of blood. We weren't sure we'd gotten you help in time. Francis has hardly left your side." He turned his head, squinting still, and raised his hand to his face. His glasses were gone.

"Oh! You can't see…here!" A pair of glasses was shoved towards his face, and he slipped them on, blinking.

"Al…these are _your_ glasses," he said.

"I know, but I don't know where yours are," his brother said, shrugging. Matthew smiled.

"Thanks Al," he said.

"Mathieu, are you feeling alright?" Matthew turned again and his eyes fixed on Francis.

"Oh, Papa." He sat up and reached out towards him. Francis moved closer and Matthew pulled him into a hug. "I'm sorry, Papa. I didn't mean to scare you."

"It is alright, mon cher," Francis said. He pulled back and wiped at his face. "I am just happy you are okay." Matthew could tell he was the one that had been crying. His eyes were red and his face was pale, and it looked like he hadn't slept in quite a while.

"What time is it?" Matthew asked.

"It's just about midnight." Matthew turned again.

"Dad…" Arthur smiled.

"Hello Matthew," he said. "Are you okay? Are you feeling any pain?"

No, I don't think so," Matthew said, shaking his head. He looked down at his left wrist. It was wrapped heavily in bandages, and an IV protruded from the bulge. He shivered and looked away, just now realizing that his entire left arm was numb. No doubt due to the IV. He took a shaky breath. "So what happened? I can't remember anything past getting in the ambulance." Francis and Arthur looked at each other, silently communicating in the way that parents do.

"Francis rode in the ambulance with you while I followed in the car. They took you into surgery right away, and we had to wait outside. It took a long time," Arthur said.

"I was so worried, mon cher," Francis said, kissing Matthew's hand.

"I had to go pick up Alfred, and when we returned you were already in the private room," Arthur said.

"Oui. The nurse said that you were stabilized, and I could come see you," Francis said.

"We all sat in here with you, waiting for you to wake up, but Alfred got hungry, so we went down to the cafeteria while Francis stayed here," Arthur said. Francis nodded. There was a knock on the door, and they all turned as it opened and a nurse stepped inside.

"Oh good, you're awake." She came over and checked the machines to Matthew's left. She then asked him a series of questions, which he answered as well as he could, and then she turned to his family with a smile. "I'm sorry, three visitors is too many to stay overnight. Now that he's awake, I must ask someone to leave."

"That's alright. I'll take Alfred home, and we can see you in the morning," Arthur said. He patted Matthew's shoulder and moved away. Alfred leaned in and hugged Matthew. When they pulled away, Matthew handed Alfred's glasses back to him.

"See you in the morning, bro," Alfred said. Matthew nodded.

"Okay," he said. Alfred waved as he and Arthur left the room.

"Excuse me, do you know where his glasses are?" Francis asked the nurse.

"Oh, yes." She reached into a pocket and pulled out Matthew's glasses. Francis took them from her and handed them to Matthew. "The doctor gave them to me to return." Matthew slipped them on and nodded.

"Merci," Francis said.

"Thank you," Matthew echoed. The nurse nodded and smiled.

"You're welcome. Good night." She left them alone in the room. Matthew turned to Francis.

"Papa, can you sing to me like you used to when I was little?" he asked. Francis was surprised, but he smiled.

"Of course, mon cher," he said. Matthew slid over and Francis laid down on the bed beside him. "Hmm, now which…? Oh, I know." Matthew closed his eyes as Francis started to sing, and the words of the old French lullaby gently rocked him to sleep.

Disclaimer: The lyrics that Alfred sings are from a song called Hold On by Good Charlotte. I don't own them or Hetalia.

Translations: I think that should be pretty obvious.


	3. Chapter 3

**Eh, sorry about the multiple alerts for the last chapter, I was still trying to figure out the system. I think I got it right. Enjoy the last chapter!**

The next time Matthew woke up, the first thing he noticed was that the light was coming from a different direction. He turned his head to the left and saw a window. The blinds were drawn, letting in the light. He moaned and turned away, rubbing his eyes. He noticed his glasses were gone again at the same time he realized Francis wasn't next to him. He sat up and looked around. He saw his glasses on the table next to him and he reached over to grab them, slipping them on with one hand.

"Yes…okay." Matthew glanced towards the door at the sound of the voice and saw that it was open a bit. He could see Francis standing outside, his back towards the door.

"Papa?" Matthew called.

"Oh, I have to go, he's awake now. Yes, I'll see you later. Okay. Bye." Francis turned and opened the door, smiling at him as he slipped his cell phone into his pocket.

"Mathieu! Mon cher, you are awake!"

"Oui. Bon matin, Papa."

"Bon matin, mon fils," Francis replied. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm okay. It just hurts a little bit," Matthew said.

"Good. Do you want some breakfast? That nice nurse brought some for you." Francis pulled over a high table that was designed to reach over the bed. Matthew raised his eyebrows at the food on the large tray.

"Papa, hospitals don't make pancakes shaped like maple leaves," he said.

"Aha, yes, well, I may or may not have invaded the kitchen while you were asleep," Francis said. Matthew smiled.

"Merci beaucoup Papa," he said. He reached for the pancakes and started eating. Francis plucked a piece of fruit off the heavily laden tray and rolled it between his fingers, staring at the wall as he got lost in thought. Matthew watched him for a while. "Papa?"

"Hmm?" Francis blinked and looked over at him with a smile. "Oui, Mathieu?"

"Ce que tu es penser?" he asked.

"Oh, uh…nothing. Don't worry about it," Francis said, glancing away.

"Je t'aime, Papa," Matthew said. Francis looked back at him and smiled.

"Je t'aime aussi, Mathieu," he said. Matthew smiled and continued eating. The nurse came in and Francis excused himself. The nurse struck up a conversation with Matthew while she checked the monitors and they waited for Francis to come back.

"When will I be able to go home?" Matthew asked.

"Probably not for a few days, depending on what the doctor says," the nurse said.

"Oh." Matthew stared at his lap, and the nurse noticed his reaction.

"Why, is there something going on?" she asked.

"Well, my brother's birthday is on the fourth, and I was hoping to be home for it," he said with a sad smile. She blinked and smiled.

"I will see what I can do," she said. "We might be able to get you home sooner, as long as you promise to take it easy."

"Oh yes, of course I will. No wild parties for me," he joked. She laughed, and he joined in after a moment. Neither of them noticed Francis in the doorway until he spoke.

"It looks like someone's having fun." They looked over at him.

"Hi Papa!" Matthew said. Francis smiled.

"Arthur and Alfred will come here after school is over," he said. "I've told Alfred to ask one of your friends to go around and get the assignments you'll miss from your teachers."

"Merci," Matthew said. The nurse smiled and moved toward the door.

"I'll see you later Matthew," she said.

"Okay. Bye!" he said. She slipped out past Francis, who came in and sat next to his son. They spent the next few hours playing games, until Francis apologetically said he had to go run some errands and left. Matthew fell asleep again, deciding he had nothing better to do. Francis woke him up when he returned.

"Mathieu~. Hey Mathieu~. Ah! There's someone here to see you," he said once he saw that Matthew was awake.

"Who is it, Papa?" Matthew asked, putting on his glasses as he sat up.

"No, it's a surprise. You have to close your eyes. And no peeking!" Matthew, although confused, still did what his Papa asked him, and covered his eyes with his hand. Francis waved a hand in front of his face to see if he was looking, then he grinned and went over to the door, waving to somebody out in the hall. Matthew heard several pairs of feet moving around, then the lights clicked off.

"Papa? Qu'est-ce qui se passe?" he asked.

"Un moment, mon cher," Francis replied from across the room. There was some scuffling and giggles, then the person giggling was shushed and it fell silent. He heard the flick of a lighter and Francis saying, "Okay, you can open your eyes." Matthew lowered his arm and gasped.

"Happy birthday!" the chorus sounded.

"Oh my gosh, guys, did you really do this for me?" he asked.

"Yeah!" Alfred said.

"It was Francis's idea," Arthur said. Francis smiled and wrapped an arm around Arthur's waist, despite his protests.

"Happy birthday, mon cher. Even if it is a day late," Francis said. Matthew smiled and looked at the others in the room. Katyusha, Gilbert, even Ismael was there! The Cuban boy held a tub of ice cream, Katyusha had a big plastic bag, and Gilbert was holding Matthew's pet polar bear, Kumajiro, and Gilbird was perched on his head. Alfred was holding a big birthday cake that said 'Happy Birthday Matthew!' in red frosting with maple leaves around the edge. There were fourteen lit candles on it, seven red and seven white. He slid the cake onto the high table and pushed it closer to Matthew.

"Come on, make a wish!" he said. Matthew smiled as he looked up at all his friends that had shown up for him, and he made his wish.

"_I wish I could be this happy every year."_

**Okay, I could have made it longer, but I wanted to end it on a really happy note (plus I wasn't quite sure how to continue). I used Ismael for Cuba's name because I saw someone else use it, so whatever. Katyusha is Ukraine, in case you didn't know.**

**Okay, Translations!:**

**Bon matin, mon fils = Good morning, my son**

**Merci beaucoup = Thank you very much **

**Ce que tu es penser? = What are you thinking about?**

**Je t'aime aussi = I love you too**

**Qu'est-ce qui se passe? = What is going on?**

**Un moment, mon cher = One moment, my dear**

**Hetalia does not belong to me.**

**Oh, and I had this finished last night, but the internet wasn't working so I had to wait until this morning. The first chapter of my next story will be out soon!**


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